To Catch A Dream
by IrishCharms
Summary: Oneshot? A union of two friends, a boring homework assignment, and a late night trip to the kitchens leads to something Ginny never would have expected. HPGW with some RWHG


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize, just the plot.

Sometimes life can be so bloody complicated. And at other times so dull that it almost makes you wish for drama. Between my six brothers, the return of Voldemort, and…well, I'm not going to go into _that _right now, but, as I was saying, with all this confusion I haven't been blessed with a boring moment in so long as I can remember. Or at least since last May. But who's keeping track?

I try to focus my concentration on the potions essay in front of me. It is, however, so extremely tedious that it just might succeed in squashing all concept of excitement and complexity that my being has to offer. Who, after all, will ever need to know how to make a befuddlement potion specifically for trolls? Aren't they already pretty thick? And you'd have to be bloody suicidal to get close enough to a troll's mouth to make him drink the concoction. Busy work, if you ask me. Which no one ever does.

Sighing for at least the third time in five minutes, I resign myself to an evening of immense monotony.

Let's see…ingredients…

I am just about to copy down such information as "When brewing a befuddlement potion for any creature other than a human, one must add ingredients according to said creature's natural intelligence" (of which trolls have very little), when Ron, Hermione, and, oh bloody hell, Harry come gallivanting into the common room, looking particularly pleased with themselves.

I promptly spill my ink all over the little I had written and then, as though that is not bad enough, put my arm in the mess. My skin wastes no time in turning a dark shade of green where it has made contact with the ink.

I feel my face burn in both embarrassment and irritation. Why oh why must I always make a fool of myself when Harry is around? There, I've said it, and I promised myself I never would. I'm thinking about Harry again; about how he makes me jumpy because…no, don't even acknowledge it, it's too painful… Well, let's just say that I may have had feelings for him. Which I certainly don't anymore.

Shit, he's coming over! I wipe my arm across my forehead, then realize with horror that I now probably have a streak of green just below my hairline. That'll compliment my suddenly burning face. Nothing cheerier than Christmas colors!

"Hey, Ginny."

Merlin, did Harry just speak to me? What should I do…what should I say? Well, a nice 'hello' would be great for starters, but my mouth is slightly agape at having been addressed by him and I can't seem to control it anymore.

"Er…um…hi." I say it as though it was a question and I silently reprimand myself.

I expect him to nod and then go back to talking with Ron and Hermione, but when I look around I see that they are on the other side of the common room. Strangely enough, they're not even bickering. In fact…no, it can't be. Yes, yes it is! They just kissed! A little peck, mind you, but a kiss nonetheless. Finally my git of a brother pulled his head out of his arse and did something about his blatantly obvious crush on his best friend. Er, make that female best friend, because if he were kissing Harry I might not be quite as thrilled. Not that I like Harry… Because I don't. Really, I don't.

"So, they finally got it together, did they? When did this…new development take place," I ask, jerking my head in the direction of my brother and his new paramour.

Harry laughs, a deep, hearty laugh. I can feel my heart flutter and my stomach flop over. Damn, stop that nonsense right now! You do not have my permission to react like that whenever Harry is around. I don't feel _that_ way about him!

"Today at dinner. They were bickering over something, can't remember now what it was, when all of a sudden Hermione blew up at Ron. She said he might as well just say what he really thinks of her, since he always seems so critical. Then he yells out that if she really wants to know how he feels about her, he'd tell her. And he did, right before sprinting out of the room with this absolute look of horror on his face. Hermione followed and when I finally caught up to them they were being…sickly, really."

I stare at him for a moment, having never heard him string so many words together in one sitting. We had never really had a proper conversation before, and I am a bit stunned to see him so talkative. Quickly collecting myself, I battle internally over what I should do next…should I say something, laugh with him, just up and kiss him. Whoa, let me stop right there.

I eventually settle with a wide grin, which Harry returns before plopping down on the floor beside me. The firelight is flickering over his face and I can't help but notice how very nice looking he has become. Quidditch has been good to him.

"What are you working on," he asks, obviously not about to let me return to my work. I need a break anyway.

"Oh, potions essay. I'm supposed to write about the proper way to brew and serve a befuddlement potion for a troll."

"Seems a bit pointless. Why waste your time confusing a troll when nature's pretty much already taken care of it for you?"

"No idea. Are you suggesting that I not do it?" I ask with a wry smile.

"No, no, I didn't say that. But I didn't not say it, either. Between you and me, I think your best bet is to let it rest a while and instead spend your time accompanying a friend to the kitchens."

"Oh? And who might that friend be?" I think I like where this is going…

"Me, of course. Since Ron and Hermione ran off I didn't get much to eat." Harry is giving me a pleading look that I simply can't resist. But I can't let him know that or he'll use it on me all the time.

"I don't know, Harry. I might consider going with someone like Neville or Dean, but I haven't decided if you are worthy of my company yet." I brush my hair out of my face and Harry suddenly frowns and leans forward.

Merlin, what is he doing? Have I got a spot on my nose or something?

He puts his thumb on my forehead and rubs it back and forth for a moment and I realize immediately what is going on. I _did_ smudge ink on my face. How embarrassing! Though, his touching me is a plus side. Perhaps next time I should role myself in it so he has to run his hands all over my body.

God, now I'm blushing terribly. I need to stop thinking things like that!

"Er, thanks," I say, trying to hide my flaming cheeks.

"Well, the least you can do to repay me is to come with me to get something to eat. Come on, I'm starving!" Merlin, that look could even soften old Umbridge up.

"Alright. But then you have to help me with my essay."

Harry raises his eyebrows at the ultimatum, but nods and stands up, offering me a hand. I take it, looking anywhere but at his face lest he be able to tell by my expression that I…alright, I might as well just admit it. I like Harry bloody Potter. Not just like, no, something far more painful and deep. Like a nail in the heart. Except without the nail. His inattention to me has been hard to deal with over the years, but I have managed to build a shell around myself. Only, now that he is actually talking to me I can't seem to get my protective walls up. It's like he's melting them with nothing but a few words and a disarming smile.

Just as we reach the portrait hole Harry stops short and checks his watch.

"It's already eight-thirty. By the time we get back it will be past our curfew."

I open my mouth to say something (I'm not sure what, though, because my brain is kind of mushy) but he looks up with a grin and cuts me off before I have the chance. Probably for the best, since I would most likely have said something quite unconnected to our chatter. Like "You have the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen". Or else, "There's a broom closet on the way to the kitchens". Yeah, that would be a helpful pointer.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Harry says to me, touching my arm as though to emphasize his wish for me to stay where I am. Odd, a tingling sensation is making its way up my forearm. Yeesh, get a grip on yourself, Ginny!

As though to prove my independence of Harry, I force myself to walk over to a chair and plop down. I don't have to actually wait at the door, that would make me look desperate or something.

Right…so…waiting is not my favorite thing in the world. I slump back and rest my head my hand.

A few second years are sitting by the fire studying, but other than that the common room is empty. Well, Ron and Hermione are probably still lip-locked in the shadows somewhere, but that is hardly something I want to look at. Best to pretend they both went to bed. In their respective dorm rooms. I shudder at the other possible sleeping arrangements. What is wrong with me tonight!

Just as I begin to think that Harry has changed his mind, having suddenly realized that I am not worthy of his time, I feel something on my arm. I open my mouth in surprise, perhaps to squeal, but a moment later it is covered by some invisible hand. My eyes open in horror and I jerk my head back in an attempt to escape from the unseen force.

A soft laugh is just audible from somewhere close to my ear and the next moment something is thrown over my body. Just as suddenly Harry is before me, eyes dancing mischievously and a hand over my mouth.

He brings a finger up to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and I glare at him. When he doesn't immediately remove his hand from my mouth I stick my tongue out and very lightly lick it. He pulls away in surprise and I give him an innocent look.

Rolling his eyes and wiping his hand on my robes, he motions for me to follow him through the portrait hole. I follow as though in a trance, my body moving of its own accord. My mind is far too jumbled by the sudden proximity and sense of secretiveness invoked by the invisibility cloak to function properly.

Once in the dark corridor Harry allows himself to laugh, and I join in mechanically.

We have to stand very close to each other in order to stay within the confines of the cloak, which was hardly made for a sixth year and a seventh year to fit comfortably under at the same time. But I have no complaints. The tingling sensation on my left side whenever our bodies touch is quite intoxicating and I have no wish for it to end.

We make it to the end of the hall and then swing right, dashing down some stairs at a reckless pace.

A giggle escapes my lips and I quickly clap my hands over the noise, as though I could catch it and make it disappear. The time it takes me to accomplish this string of motions is just enough that, as I have paused, Harry has traveled too far for the cloak to completely cover me. I make a wild dash toward him and collide unceremoniously with his back, but not before a cackling voice overhead lets us know that we have been spotted. Damn my uncontrollable whim to laugh!

"What's this!" came the gleeful shriek, far louder than was called for. "Ickle students out of bed?" Peeves the poltergeist floated down from the chandelier on the ceiling above from where, no doubt, he had been wreaking some sort of havoc that will become apparent the next day when the corridors are full. "I know you're there! You can hide but you can't run!" he admonishes the air.

He is sweeping toward us, feeling blindly for any sign of a solid object.

I am pinned to the spot, comprehending that we are sure to be caught and that Harry will never want to take private walks with me again. I've botched up my chance with him!

Just as I feel the impending doom wash over me, a warm hand slips into mine and tugs at me gently. I look up in surprise to see Harry regarding me with a strange expression on his face, which is quickly replaced by one of urgency.

He pulls at my hand again and motions with his head that I should follow. The drumming of my heart has drowned out Peeves' boisterous voice and I am quite convinced that, not only is it audible to Harry, but to our pursuer as well. But then we are running hand-in-hand down the hall and I forget about Peeves, who was traveling in the wrong direction the last time I noticed, and about everything else.

In fact, so enraptured am I with my good fortune of being alone and in physical contact with Harry that I am quite taken by surprise when we eventually do reach the kitchens.

Harry reaches up and tickles the pear and as he does his arm brushes across my upper chest. I feel my heart jump and quicken its pace once again. My breath hitches in my throat and I am quite sure that Harry can hear it. Or, at least, he is blushing slightly. This makes me blush. Oh lord.

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, which appeared with the stroking of the green fruit, and looks down at me. I meet his gaze and am surprised at my own daring. Yes, that's right, I am looking Harry Potter right in the face and, though I am positive that my cheeks are blazing fit to light up the hall, I do not blink.

The moment is broken when Harry accidentally turns the knob and the door falls open, causing the both of us to tumble in, landing with a loud thud on the floor. It seems the fates are out to get me. Just when I think things are turning around and Harry might see me for who I truly am (no, not the gibbering twit I usually am around him, the _real_ me), everything is ruined.

My brow creases and a scowl is sure to be inching across my features. I must look like a sulky ten-year-old, but I don't care. This isn't fair!

Harry laughs suddenly and stands, pulling me with him. I glare at his laugh lines as though to scold him for not letting me skulk. But I can't seem to make the disgruntled expression stay pasted to my face, and it soon relaxes into a wide grin. How does he do this to me!

"Come on, I'm still hungry!" he said jovially, his hand still resting on my arm from when he had hoisted me up. I blush.

"Er, right," I say smartly.

He leads me to a small table toward the back of the kitchens and I am uncomfortably aware that many pairs of saucer-shaped eyes are regarding our progress past the stoves. The elves seem quite taken with Harry. But then, so am I.

"Harry!" comes a high shriek, making me jump slightly and whip in the direction of a small elf. Dobby. "Harry Potter, sir, it be so good to see you again. Winky keeps saying you won't come visit, that you are too busy, but I knows she is wrong. I tell her, 'Winky, you don't know Harry Potter like I do. He will remember us and take a trip to the kitchens'. And you did, sir, you did!"

He is so overjoyed at Harry's appearance that I am quite reminded of myself when I was eleven. Or even now. But I can't be _that_ desperate. Can I? Something to ponder…

"Hi, Dobby. How have you been," replies Harry silkenly, obviously well-practiced in addressing hyperventilating individuals.

"I's been good, sir. And you? What can we get you?" he queries, gesturing wildly at the cluster of house elves peering at us from every direction.

Harry shrugs and looks at me for my input, but I can't think straight because his hand is still in mine. I gulp.

"Well, I wouldn't mind some tea," I say rather shyly. It is a strange feeling to have so many doting creatures fall over each other to fulfill your wishes, and it makes me a bit uncomfortable. "And, er, I don't know… Do you have any strawberries," I ask as a picture creeps into the forefront of my mind. It is something I had seen once in one of my mom's cooking magazines. On the cover is a bouquet of what at first looks like roses but, upon closer inspection, is of freshly picked strawberries, still dewy from the morning mist. I lick my lips involuntarily.

Harry grins at me and then quickly rattles off a list of dinner foods that I can hardly concentrate on. After all, as I said, we are still touching.

The elves suddenly scurry off in various directions and I realize that Harry has completed relaying his order. He squeezes my hand gently and, in doing so, tugs at my heartstrings. He motions that I should sit and pulls out a chair for me. I never knew he had such manners!

Sitting opposite me, he begins an easy conversation about something-or-other. I nod and interject the occasional "Hmmm" whenever there is a lull, but for the most part I just watch him.

The kitchen is very large, but the table is situated in a corner and I feel as though we are at a private restaurant. Light flickers from the sconces along the wall, sending shadows dancing across Harry's face and making the deep emerald of his eyes stand out more than usual. His lips part in a smile and I can't help my own features doing likewise. His positive energy is surrounding me comfortably, like the words of a lullaby from your youth. I can't help but feel that this moment is all I have ever wanted and ever will want. This feeling of relaxed excitement. Superbly thrilling.

I gaze in fascination as one of Harry's eyebrows shoots up in a quizzical look and his eyes become dark with intensity.

"Ginny?"

"Hmmmm," I breath before I can stop myself. I sit up a little straighter and blush profusely.

He has caught me staring at him! I look anywhere but at him and my gaze finally falls on my hands, folded in my lap. I feign immense interest in them, as though I had never before laid eyes on them.

Where did that freckle come from? I don't remember it being there! Maybe I really _haven't _actually looked at my hands before. And those nails need lots of work! When I get back to the dorm…

"Ginny? Um, are you okay?" Harry's voice is low, almost intimate. But I must be making that up. I have imagined hearing him speak like that to me for so long that I have actually convinced myself it is happening.

A hand on my arm. I jerk my head up and find my face very close to Harry's, who has leaned over the small table to touch me. If this gesture was meant to wake me from my stupor, it has had the opposite effect. My mind is blank and all I can do is stare unabashedly into those eyes of his.

He had looked as though he was about to say something, but the words seem to have died on his lips. He doesn't draw back.

I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face and the sensation is sending shocks down my spine.

I feel my mouth slightly unhinge…perhaps in anticipation? I really shouldn't get my hopes up, but really. This is…remarkable.

He is inching closer each moment, never losing eye contact with me. My mind is frozen. I don't know how to react to this. Should I lean in, too, or am I misreading the signs? Merlin…

And the next moment everything is gone in a haze, every worry, every thought, everything other than Harry and his lips, which have just closed on mine. Fireworks are going off in my head and it is just as I have always imagined it. This is lovely, exquisite, magnificent, more than words can explain.

His hand moves to my cheeks and pulls me slightly closer, lips furtive against my own. We are melded together, one soul with two bodies. I could be reading too deeply into the moment, but that is how I feel.

I open my mouth to him when his tongue seeks entrance, gasping at the intimacy of the feeling. He is gentle and intense at the same time, leaving my head reeling. I've kissed other boys before, but this is different. This is perfect.

When we finally break apart, the food has arrived. The rest of the night flies by and is a blur of happiness. The delicious strawberries, the pleasant chatter, the slow stroll back to the common room, the exchange of one more gentle kiss before separating into our separate dorm rooms. I am walking on clouds, drinking in sunbeams. So this is what it feels like to capture a dream.

_Please, please, please review! At the moment this is a one-shot, but I might reconsider. I welcome constructive criticism (just don't be too harsh!) and any other comments._


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